My Half Blood
by meandmyfriends
Summary: "Connor Scepasus Wadek.what do you think you're doing?""Killing someone.you?""Watching you kill someone" J.K.Rowling wrote about those who killed Voldemort.But what about theMuggles who went missing?This is the story of the PureBlood and the HalfBlood who saved them,despite all the dangers they had to go through. C:the appearance of the HalfBlood in the PureBlood's unorganized life


Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

My Half Blood

Chapter 1

Eight year old Connor Merrit looked at the girl with strange violet eyes as she looked at the sky. It was night and they and two more children, Elizabeth Marcos and Eliot Vanier were assembled in the garden at Malfoy Manor, though garden was a bit of an understatement as it was the size of a Quidditch field. Only the shrubbery, most of which attacked intruders, which was planted at periodic intervals maintained the illusion that it was, _in fact_, a garden.

They were outside, _fraternizing_, while he adults talked of serious matters, something Connor quite resented. He was at the age when he was aware that certain things were beyond his comprehension, and therefore his input could only be harmful, yet fully believed that he should have been given the chance to decide for himself whether he wished to be privy to these matters or not.

Marcos and Vanier were quite happily chatting with each other, a happy enough coincidence since they were engaged, and while Connor himself was quite welcome to join them, he was bored with their company. Other eight-year olds might like talking about toys and brooms and who had punched (Vanier) or pulled the hair of (Marcos) how many people, but he himself just could not bring himself to be considered with these matters at that moment. There was something in the air tonight, something that would send shivers down his spine; he was sure, if only he understood what _it_ was. The people at Diagon Alley had had the look of people cautiously wishing for a miracle, certain that they wouldn't get it, yet unable to not wish either. He was fully aware that the mood of the people who were currently convened in the secret room under the sitting room of Malfoy Manor that they no doubt thought that he did not know of , was quite different. There were false laughs in the children's presence, but there was a strain in their faces that betrayed them. They were clearly worried.

The only other person currently present who seemed to have noticed anything wrong was the girl, Lestraude, he thought her name was. So like any other child developed well above his years, he went up to her and simply stood with her, looking up at the sky, not really curious to know what she was looking at and yet, wishing to give the impression that he was.

His acting skills apparently needed some work since after a while of silently staring at the sky she said, "It's not working, you know. I know you aren't actually looking at what I am."

He looked at her and then asked her a question in that _superior-pureblood-talking-to-inferior-half-blood _tone that was drilled into him from a very early age, "And what gives you that impression?"

She said in a tone that quite clearly implied that he was a dunce for not realising it, "Because then you wouldn't look so much like a clueless fool trying to pass himself off as a knowledgeable jerk."

He wondered for a moment about whether or not to act affronted but then decided that he was too curious to know what she was looking at with such concentration, especially since it was in the sky, it could hardly be the stars. After all, they appeared every night out here in the country, unlike the city of London. If she felt the need to thoroughly insult him before telling him the object of her fascination, he reasoned, he could hardly stop her now, could he. Though of course, he realised, it _was_ a little irritating to have to take such cheek from a mere Half-Blood.

Nevertheless, he civilly asked, "Well, what are you looking at?"

She replied without once taking her eyes off the sky, "You know, your polite voice needs a little work. Try again."

He might have, remember, _might have_, sounded a little irritated, he thought disgruntledly, but that surely did not mean that he had to dance to that little Half-Blood's tune. But he knew that things could be achieved more easily with a kind one than with just a stick, so he said in the most polite voice that he could currently manage, "what are you looking at?" if she did not deign to answer even this time, she could take her secret to the grave. He certainly wasn't_ that_ interested.

She didn't. Instead she said in an _encouraging-professor-telling-a-stupid-student-that-he-could-do-better _tone, "You forgot your apology but I can forgive you that. You did after all give it your best."

He could hold hid uncharitable tendencies in no longer. But before he could say anything, she grabbed his chin in one pale, little hand, her red hair looking nearly black in the dim lighting of the garden, and tilted his face up to sky and asked softly, "What do you see?"

"Stars," surely she wasn't looking up at the sky with such intensity merely because she was a star watcher?

"And what's so special about the stars?" He was starting to get really angry, but he said with only he slightest hint of it in his voice, he was proud to say, "They're very bright." When she simply looked at him, he continued, a little bit confused now, "They're very many."

"Too many," she answered.

He sent her a condescending look as he said, "That's what happens in the country, you know. You can see many more stars than you can in the city."

She frowned at him "I know that. We have two country homes. No, what I meant was that there shouldn't be this many stars in the sky at this point of the year."

He sighed, but looked up again, trying to humour her but then he realised that she was right. There were too many stars. Indeed, some of them looked suspicious big and coloured, to boot.

"They're not stars, are they?"

"No," she replied. "If I have to make a guess, I would say that they are in fact fireworks looking particularly small because the Malfoys have bought the entire county or so."

"Fireworks," Marcos exclaimed excitedly. She got up, squealing, "I want to see!"

Vanier got an irritated expression on his face for a moment before quickly burying it. Connor could understand. If he had to spend the rest of his _long_ life hearing that squeal all the time, he would be irritated too.

Marcos ran on her pudgy little legs-she was remarkably solid- to where he and the Half-Blood were standing and nearly knocked him over when she failed to stop in time. He fell against the Half-Blood, managing to keep his feet under him only because she caught him by sleeve of his sweater. Little though he wanted to say it, he made himself say in a reasonably grateful voice, "Thank You."

He had the feeling that it more than likely sounded a touch ungrateful, an impression solidified when she shot him a dirty look. She opened her mouth to say something no doubt very uncomplimentary, when Marcos squealed again, pointing at the area of land that was just visible beyond the hedges that ringed the Malfoy property. "Look! That was so near! What's happening?"

Marcos had a nasty habit of exclaiming everything, but this time he could not blame her or Vanier when he echoed her question in a more worried tone.

There was a bright red light at the edges of the hedge. It could have been a firework set near the Malfoy Manor, as there was a loud _bang_ after the light, but it seemed doubtful. As the Half-Blood had said, the Malfoys had bought nearly the entire county and the light seemed to be just beyond the Manor. No one was in the vicinity who would dare to set off fireworks when the Malfoys themselves looked so worried.

Vanier said in a nervous sounding voice, "That looked like a curse, if you ask me."

There was another loud bang and Connor started inching backwards. The noise seemed to be nearer this time and he had no desire to meet the people who were throwing the curses if Vanier was right, which he thought he probably was. Vanier was doing the same, dragging Marcos along with him, who looked terrified out of her wits, not that she had many.

The only person who was not moving away from the hedge that seemed to loom before them with frightening intensity seemed to be the Half-Blood. She was staring at the lights that were flashing with growing speed with something that looked a lot like fascination. He rushed forward, grabbed her arm, and pulled her backward along with him. He might think her inferior, but that did not mean that he wanted her to be hurt. By this time, there was no doubt in his mind that the lights and bangs were the results of curses. The voices shouting them could be heard.

He heard a voice cry, "Reducto!" And caring for nothing except himself, he jumped aside, landing on his side. Since he had been holding onto the Half-Blood when he jumped, she landed with him, probably with more gashes than him, since he at least, had been prepared for the rough landing. He was sure that she would have yelled at him, but just then, the hedge literally blew apart. He covered his head and face with his arms, hoping that the others were doing the same, though not particularly worried about them.

He opened his eyes when he heard a man curse-abuses, not spells- as another muttered with dismay, "Shit! They've got kids!"

A woman said ruthlessly, "well, at least they made it easier for us. No hostage situation, even though they are their own kids."

"Surely they wouldn't?" A soft spoken witch asked. There was a bitter laugh. "Do snakes eat their young when it's helpful for them?"

He felt the Half-Blood struggle to get to her feet, hissing when he grabbed her tighter. The adults did not seem to be paying any attention to them at the moment as they were too busy looking around, their wands lit up to provide illumination. He wanted to keep it that way, something that seemed doubtful as she finally managed to get to her feet despite all his efforts- she was stronger than she looked.

"You're Aurors, aren't you?" the Half-Blood asked bravely. She didn't _sound_ as if she was scared but he knew that tone. It was the one he himself used when bluffing his way out of trouble.

One of the witches stayed behind with the children, eyeing them suspiciously as the rest stealthily moved towards the mansion. He didn't know why they bothered to try being stealthy, they were making too much noise for it, not to mention they had already set off some sort of alarm, blasting through the Manor's security as they had.

He saw the witch debate whether or not to answer the Half-Blood, he was sure she was about to ignore her, but then she looked at the four of them and gave a sharp nod. He tried to imagine what they looked like to her at that moment, and decided it had to be a pitiful image. Marcos was crying her out- she had always been too high strung- , Vanier had widened his eyes so much that they completely dominated his face. He himself was still lying on the ground, he realised with disgust, while the Half-Blood was having a staring match with the witch (who probably was an Auror) with a pinched up look on her face. _Wait! A pinched up look?_ He stared at her in suspicion. She had the naturally blank sort of face that only came with talent and regular practice. The witch didn't look scary enough to make the Half-Blood ignore her natural tendencies. She was remarkably brave and stubborn, he had proof.

His suspicions were verified when she said in a quivery voice that made it seem as if she was trying really hard to sound brave, "Mum always said that you helped people. My Dad's been acting really strangely. First he forgot my birthday," she stopped to take a breath so that she could go on. The witch had a deeply sceptical look on her face but that slowly faded when Lestraude continued "I know that a lot's been going on so I didn't mind it too much. But then we apparated and he landed on the wrong spot! The one we keep for visitors, he didn't seem to even know that there's a different one for family and the house elves. And then for a while, he seemed to even forget me! Help me, please?"

The witch seemed distressed at this. Distressed not as if she wanted to blow the Half-Blood's brains off for lying to her, but distressed as in she was touched that wanted her help. Which was a whopping big lie, but probably helpful if the Aurors won in the fight most likely taking place in the mansion right then.

The witch bit her lip then, as if reluctant to do something, but then straightened up and asked in a clear voice that she probably imagined was commanding, but that just came out sounding like a squeak uttered by that mouse man who had come by their house a few times, "Has any of your parents behaved in a weird manner?"

The Half-Blood shot a pointed glance at Marcos, who just kept on crying, finally falling to the ground and her sobs escalating in both sound and intensity. Vanier was too busy tracking every move made by the witch to notice that Lestraude was shooting him a look. She rolled her eyes then shot _him_ a look. It was clearly prompting him to say something so he did, "Uh, yes, my Mum." As the witch prompted him to say something, he wracked his brain to come up with something that seemed even remotely truthful. He came up with, "She's been really happy." Yes, he knew that he sounded like an idiot, but that was the best he could come up with. When you were a Merrit, you didn't need to lie. All you needed to do was use _the stare_, but he really doubted that was going to do the thing now.

The witch however seemed to be making an effort. She asked, "And she is?"

"Valeria Merrit." _See?_ Even an Auror knew what that meant, and everyone knew that most of the force was made of idiots.

The witch said slowly, "That does sound suspicious. Isn't she the one who's married to the Mad Merrit?" Connor scowled at her. The question was too ridiculous to merit a personal answer.

The witch gave him an amused smile as she said, "No need to be offended. How long has she been _happy_?"

He felt the childish urge to puff up his cheeks and refuse to answer. He nearly did that, but then he saw that Lestraude had one finger pointed at him and he took that to mean that she wanted him to say 'one'. Now, just to clarify, he wasn't so innocent that he didn't know what pointing a finger at someone meant, but it wasn't _the finger_, so he did what she evidently wanted him to.

He said, "Just for one or two days." He knew that while lying, it was best to be as vague as possible. For example, saying _one or two days_ was a really better lie than simply _one day._

The witch seemed to doubt his story and he was about to say something when the Half-Blood nearly stepped on his face and then dared to blame _him_ for it, "Can't you get _up_, Merrit. Admittedly your mother's taken to skipping everywhere today, but that _does not_ give you permission to lie on the ground for everyone to trip over, however much you might think it does."

Connor got to his feet, blushing furiously. He had forgotten, _again_, that he was lying on the ground.

It did have one good effect though, Vanier agreed to his story, "Look Marcos. Merrit Senior's skipping everywhere with a wide grin on her face, while Merrit Junior is lying on the ground, being the steppingstone for the Half-Blood."

That was the wrong thing to say. The witch snarled at them and snapped, "If it was in my hands, I'd put both of you in Azkaban for insulting someone just because of their blood status"

Then Marcos did something very silly. She asked, "But if you want to put us in Azkaban for caring about blood status, then doesn't that mean that _you _care about blood status too?"

She was definitely a Muggleborn, Connor decided. No one else would look so red in the face except, perhaps, a Weasley, but everyone knew that they had red hair, which, as much as he could tell in the light of the lone wand still lit- the lights had gone out a while ago- she definitely did not have.

She fumed, and then with a wicked smile muttered a spell at them that instantly froze them where they were. She then turned to the Half-Blood and Connor himself and smiled a smile that suddenly looked sinister to him as she said, "Well, the nasty Death Eater children are taken care of now. So why don't you introduce yourselves after which I will introduce myself. After all, it's quite rude to spend so much time in each other's company that we will no doubt be spending, without knowing who the other is, now, isn't it?" both he and the Half-Blood nodded. He was glad that he still had his motion and had no desire to lose it. Agreeing to something small didn't feel like such a big thing.

Just then, the bangs that had been echoing with such fatality, that he had been trying to ignore, finally stopped. The Half-Blood looked at him with a question that he couldn't answer but which the patronus that came rushing towards them did. The otter said in a deep voice, "We won. Keep an eye on the children. No casualties."

And that was it? Connor was shocked. A few minutes of fighting and the Aurors won? And what did the voice mean when it said, 'no casualties'? He didn't mention at all about whether anyone had been very badly hurt, or even if the no casualties part was only for the Aurors or not. He didn't have to wait for too long to find out though. In the distance, he could see a group roughly the size of the one that had entered so rudely floating several people above their heads. He hated to even think the word _bodies_. He felt like he was going to be sick, something that he couldn't possibly do since Merrits did not get sick anywhere except in the privacy of their bathrooms.

Before it could get that far though, the witch beside them said, "They're most probably just stunned. _We_ don't kill our enemies."

'Probably' sounded a lot better than nothing at all. The group finally came to them and carelessly dropped the floating figures on the ground. He wanted to rush towards his mother whom he could see just lying there; looking too lifeless for his liking but the Half-Blood grabbed his arm and he stayed where he was.

The Aurors cast a silencing spell on the unconscious figures, tying them up before waking them. Most of them tried too either move or speak, looking quite sullen when they failed to do so.

The Half-Blood hesitantly asked, "Why are you here?" looking at her own father who looked slightly blank. A good knock to the head, Connor decided.

One of the Aurors, a wizard, laughed before saying, "I'll tell you why we're here. Or more properly, what's happened. Voldemort's vanished, or should I say, vanquished." There was a collective gasp at that, though he had a feeling that the Aurors had gasped because of the use of the Dark Lord's name, not because of the news one of them had imparted.

_**A/N: if anyone is reading this story, please review so I know to write this story, or I will wait till I have completed my other stories to continue writing this one, orr maybe even not write it at all. **_

_**I've put the rating as K, but if anyone of you thinks that the rating should change, just tell me.  
**_

_**this story is kind of a prequel to Befriending the Merrits, though both can be read individually.  
**_


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